


Can't Be Blamed

by hawksonfire



Series: MCU Kink Bingo Round 3 2019 [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky was horny, Clint gets sleepy after sex, Dom Bucky Barnes, If You Squint - Freeform, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, POV Bucky Barnes, Phone Sex, Sexting, Sub Clint Barton, slight D/s undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 20:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18454052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawksonfire/pseuds/hawksonfire
Summary: Bucky misses Clint when Clint's on a mission. So he takes the situation into his own hands. Literally.





	Can't Be Blamed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bucky Barnes Bingo B3 - KINK: Phone Sex.  
> Also Written for MCU Kink Bingo N1 - Sexting.

**Bucky**

Bucky missed Clint. He missed having someone to wake up next to, even if that someone stole all the blankets and snored and sometimes made Bucky overheat and was a really good cuddler and - Yeah. Bucky missed Clint.

Clint had been gone for a week and a half at this point. And sure, they had sent texts back and forth and had even had a rushed phone call that ended with Clint swearing and hanging up and Bucky feeling sad and alone. Not to mention that Bucky hadn’t had a satisfying orgasm since Clint left.

So he really can’t be blamed for the text he just sent Clint. Bucky looks at the attached picture and considers it. He had just gotten out of the shower, so his body was shiny with water and steam. Bucky knows Clint likes him freshly washed - something about the way it makes his cheeks rosy?

Anyway, the text is just a picture of Bucky from the waist up grinning at the camera. You can kinda tell he’s wearing a towel, but only just. Bucky didn’t mean to start something, but once he sent it, he remembered the last time he sent Clint a picture like that, and his dick started to swell under the towel.

So he takes another picture, this one of him from the chest down and you can see the bulge in his towel where his cock is pressing against it. You can also see him pinching his nipple, but Bucky thinks Clint will like that. 

He tosses his phone on the bed and drops the towel, pulling on a pair of threadbare sweatpants. He’s really not expecting Clint to respond - he is on a mission, after all - but that doesn’t stop him from looking towards his phone every few seconds.

When it actually does buzz against the bed, he practically leaps across the room and grabs it before it bounces off the bed. 

**Clint:** _ fuck bucky you cant just send me something like that im on a mission _

Bucky grins and flips onto his back, pressing his half-hard cock against the thin sweatpants and snapping another picture. He sends that with a smirk on his face and waits for Clint’s response, idly palming his dick through the pants while he waits.

**Clint:** _bucky i stg i cant right now_

Bucky pouts. Then he gets an idea.

**Bucky:** _ cant or wont _

**Clint:** _both im sharing a room with steve_

Bucky shoots off a text to Natasha, who’s also on the mission, and goes back to his conversation with Clint.

**Clint:** _ what did you do nat just came and got steve for something said theyll be gone for an hour _

**Bucky:** _ i made it so you could _

_ if you wanna _

_ dont feel pressured _

**Clint:** _  bucky i want to just gimme a second to get ready _

Bucky grins and drops his phone on the bed. He grabs the lube and tissues from the nightstand and settles in on some pillows.

**Bucky:** _ im ready when you are hotshot _

The picture he receives in response makes him fumble and nearly drop his phone. Clint’s taken it in front of a mirror from the neck down. He’s shirtless - Bucky takes a moment to appreciate the view - and his uniform pants are unzipped. He’s not wearing underwear either, so Bucky can see his happy trail leading down towards his - still covered - cock and Bucky  _ wants _ .

Bucky pulls his sweatpants down slightly, exposing the tip and part of the shaft of his cock, a bead of pre-come glistening on the tip. He snaps a picture and sends it off to Clint, holding his breath while he waits for Clint’s response.

Clint sends one back of his hand wrapped around his cock, clearly in motion from the slight blurriness of the image. Bucky groans and pulls his sweatpants the rest of the way down, slicking up his hand and wrapping it around himself. He gives a few tugs and then takes another picture - this time of his hand wrapped around his cock, messy with lube. He sends it and not three seconds later, Clint is calling him.

“Hey, hotshot,” Bucky answers, voice gravelly. “What’s happening?”

“You know  _ damn well _ what’s happening, Buck,” Clint says, panting. 

“Mmmm, did my pictures do anything for you?” Bucky strokes slowly, letting out a breathy moan into the phone.

“Of course they did, have you seen yourself?” Clint asks, his voice cracking.

“Every day in the mirror, pal,” Bucky says, twisting his wrist and moaning. Clint moans into the phone and Bucky can hear a faint wet noise in the background. “Tell me what you’re doing, sweetheart.”

“I’m laying on my bed, touching myself to your pictures,” Clint says huskily. Bucky pictures it and groans, speeding up his hand.

“Are you stroking your pretty cock the way I would do it or the way you normally do it?” Bucky asks. 

Clint moans brokenly. “The - the way I normally do it, your way takes too long.”

Bucky smirks. “Do it the way I would, sweetheart.” Clint whines but the squelching sounds Bucky can hear slow down. “Good boy,” Bucky praises.

“What about you?” Clint gasps. Bucky tosses his head back as his thumb catches on that sensitive spot beneath the head of his cock. 

“I’m picturing your mouth on me, sweetheart,” Bucky says. He imagines Clint between his legs, looking up at him with those blue eyes. “Imagining my cock down your throat, choking you with it, making tears come out of your eyes.”

Clint whines into his ear. “Bucky, please -”

“You like that idea, sweetheart?” Bucky says. “Me choking you on my cock, using your pretty mouth to get off. I would fuck your face, Clint, and you’d take it so well for me, wouldn’t you? You’d be so good for me.”

“S-so good, Bucky, for you, promise,” Clint babbles and Bucky can tell he’s getting close. 

“You’d slobber all over my cock, swallow it down like you’re starving for it, and let me fuck your pretty little mouth until I came and then you’d swallow that too, right sweetheart?” 

“Y-yeah, I would, Bucky, promise, I’d be so good just for you and you could use me for your pleasure and I would just take it and Bucky I’m so close please can I come please -”

“Yeah, sweetheart, you come for me  _ right now _ !” Clint howls into the phone and the image of him coming, arching his back into the air and streams of his come splattering onto his stomach and chest set Bucky off too.

He moans Clint’s name into the phone loudly, vision sparking as his orgasm rips through him. Panting, he slumps back onto the bed and puts the phone back to his ear. “You alright, sweetheart?”

“Better than alright, Bucky,” Clint says wryly, breathing hard, “We should do that more often.”

“We should,” Bucky agrees. “Get yourself some water, and then clean up, okay? I’ll stay on the phone while you do.” Clint hums in agreements and muffled noises come from the other line. While he waits, Bucky cleans his mess off his chest and tosses the dirty tissues into the trash.

“Bucky?” Clint’s voice comes on the other end, sounding drowsy.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m here,” Bucky says lowly. “You tired?”

“C’n barely keep m’ eyes open,” Clint slurs. Bucky pictures him curled up under the covers, naked, clutching the phone to his ear. His heart clenches.

“Take a nap then, sweetheart, I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, alright?”

Clint hums softly. “Wish you were here, miss you…”

Bucky smiles softly. “Wish I was there too, love.” They sit in silence for a few minutes and eventually, Bucky hears Clint snoring over the line. He chuckles and shakes his head. “Love you, sweetheart. Sleep well.” Hanging up, he tosses his phone onto the nightstand and climbs into bed. And if he sleeps with his nose tucked into Clint’s pillow so he can smell him, that’s no one’s business but his.


End file.
